Hub.  The Kings Royall thoughts
Are in a mutiny amongst themselves,
And nothing can allay them but a slaughter,
A general massacre of all the Christians
That breath in his Dominion.  I am the Engine
To worke this glorious wonder.

Bellina.  Forefend it Heaven!  Last time you sat by me within my bower I told you of a Pallace wall’d with gold.

Hub.  I doe remember it.

Bellina.  The floore of sparkling Diamonds, and the roofe Studded with Stanes shining as bright as fire.

Hub.  True.

Bellina.  And I told you one day I would shew you A path should bring you thither.

Hub.  You did indeed.

Bellina.  And will you now neglect a lease of this
To lye in a cold field, a field of murder? 
Say thou shouldst kill ten thousand Christians;
They goe but as Embassadors to Heaven
To tell thy cruelties, and on yon Battlements
They all will stand on rowes, laughing to see
Thee fall into a pit as bottomlesse
As the Heavens are in extension infinite.

Hub.  More, prethee, more:  I had forgot this Musick.

Bellina.  Say thou shouldst win the day, yet art thou lost,
For ever lost; an everlasting slave
Though thou com’st home a laurel’d Conqueror. 
You courted me to love you; now I woe thee
To love thy selfe, to love a thing within thee
More curious than the frame of all this world,
More lasting than this Engine o’re our heads,
Whose wheeles have mov’d so many thousand yeeres: 
This thing is thy soule, for which I woe thee.

Hub.  Thou woest, I yeeld, and in that yeelding love thee, And for that love Ile be the Christians guide:  I am their Captaine, come, both Goth and Vandall; Nay, come the King, I am the Christians Generall.

Bellina.  Not yet, till your Commission be faire drawne; Not yet, till on your brow you beare the Print Of a rich golden seale.

Hub.  Get me that seale, then.

Bellina.  There is an Aqua fortis (an eating water) Must first wash off thine infidelity, And then th’art arm’d.

Hub.  O let me, then, be arm’d.

Bellina.  Thou shalt; But on thy knees thou gently first shall sweare To put no Armour on but what I beare.

Hub.  By this chaste clasping of our hands I sweare.

Bellina.  We then thus hand in hand will fight a battaile Worth all the pitch-fields, all the bloody banquets, The slaughter and the massacre of Christians, Of whom such heapes so quickly never fell.  Brave onset! be thy end not terrible.

Hub.  This kindled fire burne in us, till as deaths slaves Our bodies pay their tributes to their graves.

[Exeunt.

(SCENE 2.)